


Mine

by dumbhuman



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 11:54:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dumbhuman/pseuds/dumbhuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hot pictures of his boyfriend don’t make Chris as happy as you’d think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr in July 2013

Later, Chris would probably feel a tiny bit ashamed that he didn’t even read the interview. He would eventually, especially once he heard that Darren had mentioned him, but he couldn’t even get past the introduction once he saw that picture. That sinfully erotic image, eyes closed, thousands of long lashes fanning out toward his cheeks. The smattering of stubble lining his jaw and neck, outlining those plump, parted lips. His boyfriend looked gorgeous, _was_ gorgeous, and it pissed Chris off to no end.

It wasn’t that he was jealous of Darren’s looks. He knew he himself wasn’t perfect, but he’d gotten over a lot of his insecurities in the past couple of years. He wasn’t blind to the fact that he’d finally grown into himself, looking more like a man than a boy after years of waiting. But he knew he’d never be that _normal_ kind of attractive, the kind that fueled both men and women’s fantasies around the world. No, that job went to Darren, and right now that made Chris angry.

As his hand sped up on its path up and down his hard dick, ass grinding back into the already sweat-soaked sheets, Chris let out a growl at how many times he’d been in this position over the last few months. Darren’s tour was great, and normally the thought of the man he loved getting the recognition he deserved made Chris’s heart swell with pride, but that wasn’t the case tonight. No, tonight Chris was angrily jerking off to a picture of a celebrity, just like the rest of the fucking world.

In the few days they’d had together since the tour – passionate, blissful hours of rediscovering each other woven between rehearsals and appearances and charity events – there had been nothing lacking. Chris had the bruises and bite marks to prove just how much they took advantage of the time they had. But Chris was tired. And, if he dug deeply enough to analyze his feelings right now, he’d discover that he was hurt. Hurt that anyone could be doing this right now. That anyone could have their computer open, looking at this picture of his Darren, and imagining they were the one who put that look on his face. They were the one who’d messed up his hair, who’d kissed those lips raw, who’d made him look completely wrecked. This was _his_ Darren, and Chris hated having to share.

Up until now, Chris always managed to separate the Darren that he loved, who he could make fall apart with a few simple words, from the icon that the public saw. It was even easier recently, if not a bit painful, with all of the pandering to his straight female fanbase. But this hit too close to home. Because this picture was his Darren. True, his eyes were closed, which was rarely the case when he was with Chris, always staring deep into his eyes whenever he came, the intensity of his gaze saying _I love you_ in a way mere words could never encompass. But Chris could imagine those lips on his dick – any boy did that thought, that memory, make him moan, quickening his pace and twisting his arm a bit more as he writhed on the thin sheet, sweat covering his forehead and chest. The thought that countless people could be having those same thoughts right now, though their fantasies could never live up to the real thing, not in a million years, made the moans turn into growls. No. _His._

He came intensely and unexpectedly, ropes of white mixing with the sweat on his stomach, the air heavy with the smell of sex. Darren was his. He was the only one allowed to know what happened outside of the confines of that picture. He might not be the only one with access to that face anymore, that look of bliss, of openness now widespread to teenage girls and experienced men alike. But he was the only one who knew how to put it there, who was allowed to put it there.

Chris didn’t want to get up, utterly spent, the exhaustion from his orgasm combined with his revelation holding him to the bed. But he had to move, clean himself off, get some sleep before the relay tomorrow. He sighed and strengthened his resolve, willing himself to move. But not before he grabbed his phone and tapped out a quick text. _You’re mine._

Satisfied, he padded to the bathroom for a washcloth. Once he was no longer a sticky mess, he flopped back into bed, the drowsiness overtaking him. He was asleep by the time his phone vibrated, a smile on his face that would reemerge when he checked his texts the next morning.

_I’m yours. <3_

 


End file.
